Whine at me Wednesday. Because it is Wednesday somewhere, sometime. Eventually.

Fuck people man, fuck em. Seriously, fuck em sideways with a mangey pair of crotchless panties found on a beach after a Tom Jones concert attached to a moulding pineapple encrusted with tiny rusty pickaxes.

Forget everything I said in the last post. I am pissed. And no amount of zen motherfucker is going to get me over it until I spit this out somewhere, or break something, or possibly kick something adorable.

And I don’t want to have to clean up anything. Especially the sticky blood of something adorable so here we are.

Fuck people man. Fuck em. Really. I hate how people rate others time so poorly that they think nothing of making someone else wait around for them.

Exhibit motherfucking A, my friends.

This godforsaken fucked up window situation that we have had going on here at Chez Magnetobold since Jesus was considering his options in yr 8 woodworking class. Fuck me dead.

*loud earth shattering sigh*

Long story short, window has been leaking since before we moved in nearly 10 years ago, they patched it up with God knows what – but it was spongy – and painted over it and we kept telling them ‘dude that shit is no good, doesn’t worry us but the whole side of the house is gunna rot, your fucking call’

Finally the landlord decided on some shyster from Shady Town to come and do the work (after like a million quotes and dudes just turning up at all hours of the day and NIGHT) and we had to keep complaining on their behalf to get the fucker to come back and do the fucking job properly.

Which he still hasn’t. Bee. Tee. Dubs.

And that is not even my beef on this occasion! I know! I am so nice… Even thought the fucker made a horrendous mess and turned up at all hours and was a general prick.

No, what has got my knickers so far up my arse you can see them when I smile is I got a text that the bitch I despise most on the entire planet, who just happens to be the property manager at the real estate agency (we only deal with the owner of the real estate agency cause we are right fancy and fucking AWESOME, obviously) at SIX THIRTY PM last night saying she was coming around to take some photos of said shoddy job.

In the morning.

Fuck.

Because OF MOTHERFUCKING COURSE, I had just that very day decided to pull apart the kitchen and the Lady Room in a fit of THROW OUT ALL OF THE THINGS and MPS was in the middle of fumigating and decrapifying Boo’s room so the bitch was about to walk into a bomb site.

So I ran around like a crazy woman tidying up the kitchen and then got up super early to tidy up some more.

And cancelled all plans for the morning so said rude fucker could take her damn photos.

and waited.

and waited.

and waited.

and really needed to go to the loo… But waited.

and went to the loo, terrified that she would let herself in if I didn’t get to the door quickly enough and maybe open the door to the bedroom where I haven’t made the bed because the washing baskets are on there because omg so fucking tired from all the extra cleaning #keepingitreal

and motherfucking waited.

and the bitch never turned up.

No call. No text. No fucking sorry for wasting your damn time.

I hate people that think so little of others that this is OK by them.

I hope she gets a screaming, burning case of the shits and runs out of toilet paper. In crowed public toilet. Bitch.

Has this ever happened to you? Not the toilet thing. The fucker making you wait cause they are a selfish arsehole thing.

The waiting for someone to turn up and they don’t? Yep. That’s happened.
I sat around reading all day, didn’t mind a bit. But if I’d had places to go and things to get done, I would have been pissed off too.
The running out of paper in a public toilet? That’s happened too. I waited until someone sat in the stall next to me, then put my hand under the partition and asked for paper. Normally I’d use a handful of tissues from my bag, but sometimes I don’t have any.

Testra NBN. Waited all day Jan 15 .. Then 2 more then on the phone to them (because I have no life) to find out “oh they just couldn’t make it and did not call you” sooooooo cancelled said NBN idea. Fast forward to this week – ADSL running very slow. Telstra guy turns up. Yep, fault on your line. He can’t fix it though as line owned by NBN now!!!!! Malcolm Turnbull totally ruined this NBN thing for those of us who are the end of the queue called “fibre to the node” NBN techies won’t fix as they say we are still to be connected to NBN aaarggghhhhh no!! Cancelled in Jan. Oh god Kelley this is taking up too much space.. Suffice is to say at end of convo on phone to people who are going to be seeing how it can be resolved I uttered these words: “will be escalating this to a complaint” and I hope that works because what I find works even better is “this complaint will be going to the telecommunications ombudsman now” sheeesh I did not retire to spend my life on the end of a phone to Telstra in the Phillipines

But for some reason they LOVE MPS. So much so he had some dude come out on a Saturday morning, he gave him his personal mobile number if there were any more problems and then went out to his van and came back with a tshirt and some coffee mugs as a gift. THE ACTUAL FUCK?

Yep me too. I think waiting to go to the toilet or have a shower is the worst part. You wait all day and finally go and they either turn up and let themselves in or if it is a delivery person or tradie (without keys) knock ever so slightly and run away (I am convinced of this) so as to be able to leave an annoying fucking card to say they turned up but no one was at home. I have a few skype appointments now and it even happens with them. Sit by the computer waiting, waiting … you get the picture. Get up to go for a quick wee, let a random animal in or out and they call. If I don’t pick up in time, I’ve not been there for my appointment even if they were an hour late and I’ve been waiting all this time! ARGH! Where is the humanity?

I copped the opposite. Flaming Mo measured up for new space heater on Monday, said they’d be back 8 a.m. next Monday and left. They were late, 8.01 a.m. next Monday and me still in bed. Raced to the door pulling on dressing gown, cramp down one leg and coughing like a 4 pack a day smoker. I am a person who eases out of bed and checks all the parts are working before I stand up so I needed a late starter. And he was so sweet moving all my china off the mantelpiece while I was still hanging over a chain coughing.

“This godforsaken fucked up window situation that we have had going on here at Chez Magnetobold since Jesus was considering his options in yr 8 woodworking class.” You crack me up. Fury brings out the poet in you. This whole post flowed like Shakespeare. I feel for you though Kelley. I hate it when people do that too.

The last time I was home when this bitch came she didn’t like MY curtains and said that she was going to put the rent up because we kept the house so nice. I, like you, do not hang around when she is here because I want to rip out her multicoloured hair.

The only thing I’m whining about is my rheumatoid arthritis, its only Autumn and i’m already moving like a granny. I tried to race an actually granny with a walker and she beat me by 10m. Whiny Swearwords about RA